Monday,
November 19, 2001 – Buenos Aires
After
a fairly uneventful 10 hour flight from New York, we have finally arried at
Buenos Aires. With Argentina headed
towards their southern-hemisphere summer, the weather is quite warm and a bit
on the humid side, certainly in stark contrast with New York, which was dry and
cold when we left. While on the plane,
I read up on our destination and slowly got this feeling that Argentina isn't
the sort of country that one would want to visit only for a week, given the
choice. The major attractions of this
diverse land are spread over a fairly vast area, with spectacular waterfalls to
the north, magnificent "live" glaciers to the south, colonial ruins
and the legendary Andes mountains to the west, and of course, the capital of
Buenos Aires to the east (not to mention the multitudes of plant and animal
species that are unique to Argentina which can be found throughout this
country). It's a shame that we will
unlikely have time to see much more than the capital.
First
impressions of Buenos Aires were somewhat close to my expectations. The city is quite large, with buildings
ranging from the drab and blocky (numerous and reminiscent of rather nasty
Moscow apartment high rises) to the grandiose government buildings in downtown. The bus ride from the airport took us
through many large areas which seemed to be composed entirely of poor, squat,
shacks and shanties... with snakelike
streets twisting through the maze of makeshift homes.
We
booked a room at the Phoenix Hotel, a grand (or once-grand) old place located
right in the heart of Buenos Aires.
I've had to tussle already with Allie who wanted to rent a place in the
upscale Recoletta district... where room fees start at $100 more per night.
I'm
pretty happy with our choice... it's an
old place, yet it echoes of a former splendor... and one could see why the Prince of Wales was housed in this
building long ago. Now reduced to
three-star status, the hotel nevertheless holds a certain charm, from its
interesting old-world architecture, to it's antiquated wrought-iron cage
elevator. (For some reason every time I
walk through the place it reminds me of Al Paccino’s mansion in Scarface, heh)
After
a brief nap, it's now past 6pm and we're ready to hit the town.
***
Just
got back from our sojourn. We took a
walking tour of the area around the hotel, wandered down near the city center,
and then proceeded to the ritzy Recoletta district. There seems to be no end of bookstores, cafes, and little pizza
shops in central Buenos Aires. We
stopped by one of the said pizzerias and ordered a few empanadas... tasty meat and cheese filled pastries, which
seem to be quite popular with the locals.
Speaking
of the locals, I was somewhat surprised at a relative lack of diversity in the
crowds we've seen so far. Almost
everyone we've seen today was some shade of Latin American (though there
certainly is a great degree of physical variety within those bounds). I think I've seen one black fellow and no
Asians at all to speak of. The women
tend to be almost universally attractive...
which is both pleasant yet somewhat unsettling at the same time (I mean,
really, what do they do with all the imperfect ones?) I resist the urge to snap my camera at every girl we pass.
We
found a nice outdoor restaurant in the Recoletta district with an
English-speaking waitress (people who understand English so far have been few
and far between.) We stayed a good long
while at the restaurant, eating pizza and drinking as we watched the people
walking by. One very remarkable thing
we noticed... was the very different
pace of life that people enjoy here.
The restaurant really didn't pick up a lot of customers until after
9:00pm. Even couples with little kids
were ordering their dinners after 10:00pm.
By midnight, on a Monday night, the streets were still full of people
lazily strolling along and taking in the sights. I wonder when these guys usually get into work?
=)
We
asked our waitress about the Buenos Aires nightlife. She explained almost apologetically that Monday nights weren't
really great for club-goers, with most discos and bars closing at around
2am. I suppose for people who are
accustomed to going dancing no earlier than midnight and staying up 'til 6am,
this was an understandable attitude.
She confirmed that Wednesday nights onward was the time to really
experience Buenos Aires nightlife to its fullest.
We
continued walking around this chic area for a while, noting how active it was
for a "dead" Monday night, and getting our fill of people-watching. After a long evening, we caught a cab back
to the hotel. The cab drivers seem to
be slightly more aggressive than their New York counterparts, but not quite so
reckless as say.... their Italian or Chinese equivalents. I'm dropping off to sleep now, more to come
tomorrow.
Tuesday,
November 20, 2001 - Buenos Aires
We
had a very full (and most memorable) day today, despite getting a late
start. It was pouring rain, but armed
with umbrellas we set out to see more of Buenos Aires. We saw the two plazas which form the heart
of Buenos Aires, the famous Plaza de Mayo of "Evita" fame, and the
Plaza de Congresso. A rather large
rally was in full swing in and around Plaza de Mayo... some sort of labor protest from what we
could gather.
Firecrackers
were exploding everywhere, loud and reminiscent of gunfire, and people were
chanting and beating on drums, while speakers gave impassioned speeches over
loudspeakers. We tried our best to
steer clear of the protesters, who sometimes got a bit on the rowdy side,
knocking against passing cars, spray painting over windows and public signs,
and generally giving us an uneasy feeling that things could get out of hand at
any time. Probably just paranoia on our
part, as nothing really bad happened that we witnessed.
We
managed to weave our way through and away from the hundreds of protesters,
towards the other side of Plaza de Mayo.
The Casa de Rosa itself (where the Peron's gave their historical
speeches) was relatively quiet, being blocked off from protesters by the local
police. It was also a rather bright
pink, which was a bit of a surprise.
After taking some obligatory pictures of the area, we headed down to the
Plaza de Congresso... which was an odd
mix of stately and dingy. The muddy
central square was filled with beggars and pigeons, yet it was overlooked by
grand statues and majestic government buildings... a fitting contrast which seems to mirror what I’ve seen of
Argentina so far. After a brief rest
and hot chocolate at an upscale cafe, we took the subway back towards our
hotel.
The
subway itself was unlike any I've seen before.
The terminal was a small, scrubby affair with no maps or directions
visibly posted. The trains themselves
were a marvel though... rickety with
fully wooden interiors, Allie mentioned that it felt like we were in an old
moving wild-west saloon, and I had to concur.
Back
at the hotel, we took a brief nap then went out to El Querandi... so far the
highlight of our entire trip. Expecting
a somewhat overpriced dinner with a couple of tango dancers off in the
distance, my first real Tango experience was much more than I had imagined it
could be. The show was much closer to a
full theatrical production than a simple dance routine. A quartet of musicians composed of a pianist,
standing bass player, violinist, and a fellow with an accordion formed the
backdrop of a rather small stage overlooking the dining area.
The
atmosphere was just perfect, taking place in a dimly lit room, surrounded by
candle-lit dinner tables, with perfectly executed lighting. The music was remarkably clear and vibrant,
and the show started with a dramatic song/soliloquy by a tall, dark,
elaborately moustached man wearing a sharp suit and fedora. From there, more dancers and singers joined
in and departed from the stage, enthralling us with their amazing perfomances.
Tango
is the most remarkably dramatic and moving art form, taking your breath and
wrenching your heart with the beat of the music and the movement of the
dancers. Often times I realized I was
holding my breath as the dancers snaked and twisted around each other in
amazingly complex movements, which they somehow carried out on the cramped
stage as if the musicians and obstructing pillars were no problem at all to
dance around. To describe what exactly
made the whole experience so moving would be impossible. The swaying and pulsing rhythm of the music,
the intense eye-contact between the dancers, the stark contrast between
masculine and feminine, the cigar-smoky air, and the phenomenal maneuvers which
alternated between excruciatingly dramatic slow-motion and frenetically paced
leg kicks which the eye could barely follow... all contributed to the whole.
After
the performance, Allie and I were just speechless, and could do little but grin
and clap loudly as we could. Later on
in the evening, Allie asked, "Do you ever feel like we just don't live
in the Bay Area? These people live!" I knew what he meant. Of course our home has it's own charms and
activities, but we couldn't help that overwhelming feeling that maybe there is
something to that adage - that people outside the US work to live, while we
live to work. Or perhaps that's just
the intoxication of the Tango, which has affected our sensibilities. Regardless, I'll be keeping my eye out when
I get home for such displays of passion and vibrance wherever I can find
them... if I can find them.
And
now, it's time for bed. We are hoping
to leave very early in the morning tomorrow for Colonia in Uruguay.
Wednesday,
November 21, 2001 - Buenos Aires
Well,
Colonia didn't happen today. We spent a
good part of last night (past 4am) talking and philosophizing... was a good chat but it also precluded
getting up early to catch the ferry to Colonia. We slept in late again instead.
When
we finally did manage to rouse ourselves, we took a long stroll by the
riverside. We ate a very delicious meal
at a waterside restaurant called le Madeline, beef steak and grilled potatoes
over sauce, and creamy parmesan ravioli.
*drool* The food here has been
very cheap and quite good so far.
We
then continued down the waterfront and found an odd tourist information booth
which was built into the bottom of a real cargo-loading crane right by the
water. The lovely information booth
girl spoke fairly good English, and told us about all the good bars and discos
she could think of, giving us flyers and maps to various places. Other people nearby stopped to offer their
advice as well.... the Argentineans
seem to be a genial and friendly sort.
Thanking
the girl, we continued our stroll down the riverside (this part of the
"River" Plate is more like an ocean port, being at the mouth of the
river, but I digress.) All along the
water, on neat little benches, there were couples cuddling and necking lazily, oblivious
of any passers-by. This is another
trait of the locals I really love...
shows of public affection are very common, and it's not unusual for a
couple to quickly duck into a recessed doorway for a heavy kissing session
while people wander on by. Even right
beside a public playground, we saw couples entwined together, nuzzling and
running their hands through each other's hair.
Pleasant.
We
caught a cab to the Recoletta district again to see the famed cemetery where
Buenos Aires' rich and famous have been buried. We briefly stopped at an ornate church, browsed around some
street side vendors and got some trinkets and alaf, then proceeded to the
cemetery itself. Though cemeteries
always creep me out, and this one was no exception, it was still definitely
worth a look, as the whole area was filled with impressively carved tombs and
elaborate sculptures. I think the guard
mentioned that Eva Peron's tomb was somewhere inside, but the sun was already
setting and I didn't relish the idea of wandering amongst the tombs in the
dark, so we left and went to a nearby bar.
We
chatted with a friendly hostess who spoke fluent English and told us of her
recent trip to Sydney, Australia. She
gave us further suggestions on places to visit and see in Buenos Aires. We spent the rest of the evening at a trendy
outdoor bar, people-watching while munching on appetizers and swilling
ale. Another interesting thing we
observed that night... these little
kids kept coming around to our tables, trying to either beg, or sell us picked
flowers. They weren't pushy... mostly
smiling and pleasant enough. The
waiters and waitresses would try to get them to leave, but they weren't
terribly forceful and the kids would sometimes just laugh and try to hide
away. The restaurant staff would then
playfully try to coax them out... all
in all it was an oddly friendly exchange, certainly not the brusque type of
treatment such kids would certainly get in an upscale restaurant in the USA
(I'm guessing that the relatively affluent here are not so far-removed from the
poorer people.)
Towards
the end of the evening, I had a bit of an accident however. I was in the men's bathroom and noticed that
the condom dispenser on the wall was sitting half-open, as if someone had
wrenched it ajar. Thinking to take a
peek inside (and grab some souvenirs), I gave the door the slightest of tugs,
and the whole thing came right off the wall and crashed onto my forehead before
clattering to the floor. I reeled back,
dizzy for a moment, and then looked in the mirror. A nearly imperceptible cut on my forehead then started to bleed a
bit more profusely as I tried to put a bit of pressure on it and dab the blood
away. After about a half hour or so,
the bleeding finally stopped. I decided
to call it a night and we headed back to the hotel for the evening.
Thursday,
November 22, 2001 - Colonia (Uruguay)
Ah,
beautiful Colonia. What a gem of a
place... but I get ahead of myself, I
should start from the beginning.
Early
this morning we went to the Buquebus terminal to catch the high-speed hydrofoil
to Colonia. Though we gave ourselves an
hour of lead-time, we almost didn't board the boat, as the ticket/check-in
procedure was painfully convoluted and inefficient (and not knowing Spanish
didn't make things any easier on us.)
The only people who squeezed onboard even later than us was a pair of
American tourists from New York who we saw going through the same trials in the
ticket lines.
These
were Keith and Rupin, both investment professionals in their mid-20s who had
decided to go to Buenos Aires on a whim this week, much like we did. We talked on the way to Colonia, comparing
notes on our experiences so far, and we were much surprised to find out the
similarities we had. We were staying in
hotels just a couple blocks from each other.
We even had the same flight back to New York. We agreed to meet up later in the day after our arrival in
Uruguay to get some drinks.
Colonia
is a very pleasant little town situated across the "River" Plate from
Buenos Aires. This sleepy little town
really gave us our first feel of that languishing, warm, relaxed South American
atmosphere that I had always imagined.
The weather was beautiful, only slightly humid, with a perfectly
pleasant breeze blowing across the hilly green waterside town. We booked a room at the Posada del
Rio... a tiny place tucked away on a
shady tree-lined street by the water.
Heading
down towards the waterfront, Allie suggested we rent a couple of
scooters... it was one of the best
things we've done on this trip. Colonia
was made for exploring on scooters, with it's twisting old cobbled streets and
numerous semi-paved and unpaved roads.
We putted around everywhere we could, enjoying the beautiful weather and
the interesting local architecture. People
smiled and waved as we drove by, silly grins on our faces, waving back and
beeping our horns. All the while I had
U2’s “It’s a Beautiful Day” playing over and over in my head. We stopped occasionally to take pictures and
check out some shops... eventually, we
headed to a local hotel to meet up with Keith and Rupin. The two of them had spent most of their day
sitting poolside, watching wild parrots and huge butterflies flutter about in
the surrounding foliage. They had a
very rough day of it… alternating
between diving in the large pool, and playing hands of rummy for several lazy
hours while waiting for us.
The
four of us had a good dinner in the quaint downtown Colonia area. We ordered a bottle of wine, then another,
then another, and so on until the waiter just started bringing them out as soon
as one was finished. We talked about
everything under the sun, but mostly about how odd it was that the 4 of us
should find ourselves getting plastered in Uruguay on Thanksgiving. (Being the good kid I am, I mostly abstained
from the drinking).
After
dinner, the 4 of us bought some "Cuban" cigars (we had our doubts
about their authenticity) and set out again on the scooters... Allie and I on one, and Keith and Rupin on
the other. We cruised around town
again, speeding along the waterfront and hitting off-road trails when we
could. It was a complete blast as we
raced around each other while zipping all over Colonia, waving and honking at
folks as we went (heh, being silly Americans).
As the sun set over the water, we cruised along the coast and stopped to
take pictures while the sky turned dark... once again contemplating our
extraordinary Thanksgiving in this amazingly slow-paced land.
We
dropped the guys off at the hydrofoil terminal where they headed back to Buenos
Aires for the evening. We exchanged
contact info and agreed to stay with them for the remainder of our trip in
their apparently overly spacious rooms.
Allie and I then went walking around the remarkably picturesque downtown
area again, taking pictures here and there, marveling at the perfect weather
and the large numbers of unattended children which wandered around this idyllic
place, playing around well past nightfall.
Tomorrow,
we should get up early for our return trip to Buenos Aires.
****
It's
Friday morning now in Colonia. I
couldn't sleep any longer so I decided to saunter down to the waterfront for
one last look around this town before we leave. As I stepped outside our room, I immediately noticed the black
dog which had followed us around for some time yesterday, before we got our
scooters.
I
forgot to mention that earlier... this
dog had taken a liking to us for some reason, and had followed us as we walked,
even waiting patiently outside when we would go into a store, and casually
following us again when we continued down the road. She is all black, with a few white tufts of hair on her
chest. Long ears, long tail, thoughtful
brown eyes, and somewhat skinny... not
beautifully groomed, but pretty clean for a stray.
This
morning she followed me again as I walked towards the shoreline. I stopped at the only open shop at this
early hour, and picked up a box of cracker-like snacks, hoping to feed the
Doggie (as I had now come to call her).
She politely enough refused, but continued to follow me down the
street. The crackers did catch the
attention of two other stray dogs, however, and I tossed bits at them while I
walked, now with a veritable pack of dogs around me.
When
we got to the waterfront, I found a bench to sit on and continued typing out
this journal. I didn't really pay
attention to any of the dogs, but I suppose the two other strays were getting a
bit too close to me, sniffing and hoping for food probably. The black Doggie suddenly lashed out at the
other dogs (both of which were larger than her), growling and snapping
viciously at them. After a long
standoff, the two dogs backed off and slinked away... the black Doggie still growling at them the whole time. Seeing them defeated, she then turned to me
calmly as if nothing had happened, and put her paw on my lap while looking up
at me. Somewhat confused but very
touched by this show of loyalty, I petted her and talked to her. I've never been one of those people to chat
with a dog, but for some reason it just seemed natural.
I
sat there for an hour or so longer, petting the Doggie, working on my journal,
and looking out over the water as storm clouds gathered overhead. Sure enough, it started to rain and I headed
back to our hotel. On the way back, the
two other strays started following us again, and a third dog, even larger than
the other two, also started following...
giving me the oddest sensation that all these dogs were vying for
attention, perhaps displaying their suitability as companions. The whole way back to the hotel, the black
Doggie nipped at the other dogs when they got too close, chasing them off and
trotting beside me as if she had always been there. I started wondering if I had known this Doggie in a past
life. =)
Alas,
eventually, I got back to the hotel, and had to go inside. It was pouring rain now, and a somewhat
spectacular thunder and lightning show had begun as well. I turned to say goodbye to the black Doggie,
and she gave me those oh-so-sad eyes as if she understood that I had to go
in. She stood up on her hind legs and
put both paws on my chest, licking and gently biting at my hands.... I have never before felt so trusting of a
stray dog, and I just sat there and petted her and told her I was sorry I had
to go inside.
I'm
typing this from inside my room now, and I have a feeling she's still waiting
outside for me. I just hope one of
these restaurants open soon so I can buy her a nice steak or something before
we leave again for Buenos Aires.
Friday,
November 23rd, 2001 - Buenos Aires
Nightlife!
Friday
day was rather uneventful. We caught
the hydrofoil back to Buenos Aires (which was an hour late... gotta love the punctuality) and met up with
Keith and Rupin. Just about our entire
day was spent sleeping and loafing and preparing for our evening out.
And
what an evening out it was! One thing
you could never fault the Argentineans for... these people know how to
party! We didn't even leave our hotel
to go out until midnight. We went back
to the Recoletta district and browsed the many bars that were open and hungrily
trying to draw customers. (I actually
noticed a couple of rather unusual bars which were full of people, but lit only
by candlelight... I wanted to check
them out but the guys were drawn to lights and music like moths to fire.) We picked a couple of lively spots and
bought a few drinks. Even in the bars,
small groups of people would erupt into dancing as songs were played, in the
walkways, on their chairs, or even standing on their tables.
Allie
somehow struck up a conversation with a couple of lovely Argentinean girls, who
actually spoke a little English.
Amiable and friendly, they seemed eager enough to chat and learn a bit
more about us. One was a slender,
olive-skinned lass, 23 years of age, with long, brown curly hair named
Mariella. The other was taller,
somewhat Irish in appearance (though she assured me she was very Argentinean)
with fair skin and fiery red hair, 25 years old, named Julietta. Both were Advertising majors at a local
university, and like most of the people we saw... both loved to dance.
And
dance we did. We left the bar at about
2:30am and went to a nearby club called Sahara, where it seemed things were
just beginning to get into full swing.
The place was packed and people were still flowing into this three-floor
dance hall, which alternated between Latin American music and good ol' U.S.
favorites... all very danceable. The drinks were a bit shoddy (it seems that
Argentineans don't drink nearly as much as their alcoholic American
counterparts) but the music was good, and the mood was very lively. People danced with flair, folks were very
friendly and it helped that the women were almost universally attractive (more
than once it crossed my mind that Argentina had a notorious reputation for
having the highest rate of plastic surgery in the world).
We
stayed at Sahara until 5:30am... and
the place was still very crowded. The
sun was coming up, however... turning
the sky blue and making me realize just how late it was. Mariella and Julietta had plans for Saturday
night, but we did exchange email addresses in the hopes of meeting up for a
tour Sunday of the San Telmo district where Julietta lives. After brief goodbyes, we left the Recoletta
district for our hotel... exhausted but
happy with sleepy grins on our faces.
Saturday,
November 24, 2001 - Buenos Aires
It's
our last night in Buenos Aires and already we seem to have acclimated to the
weekend ways of the locals here...
sleeping all day, then waking up to eat and go out partying all
night. The only thing of significance
we did during the day was spend a couple of hours in La Boca district... the poor, yet very colorful (figuratively
and literally) part of town, with it's very brightly painted buildings and
shacks. We bought some souvenirs and
watched a pair of street-side tango dancers, then went back to the hotel to
rest up for that evening.
We
had a splendid dinner at a restaurant in the Palermo district, which Keith
found in his guidebook. Like the good,
gluttonous Americans we are, we ordered enough food for 6, wine for 8, and set
out to consume it all. Everything on
our table was very, very good... this being the best meal I've had in my entire
time in Argentina. From the very fresh
salad, to the meat-laden main courses, to a very satisfying desert (ice cream
on strawberries, yum....) I actually couldn't believe how much I was able to
eat (and yet did not feel like I was stuffed).
After
our meal the four of us went to a popular square in the Palermo district, which
was full of bars and cafes... even at 3:30am, the open square was filled with
people, hanging around, chatting, and having the occasional drink. After a couple of beers, Allie and I decided
to check out the club scene one more time and agreed to meet Keith and Rupin
back at the hotel later.
We went to La Diosa, a highly recommended discotheque where the Argentineans had told us we would find, "a lot of girls". Funny that neither Allie or myself had even asked about that, but I suppose they assumed that a couple of American guys looking for discos were really on a quest for women. Well, at least I can attest that the people we spoke to did not lie.... La Diosa indeed was FULL of girls, several hundred of the most amazingly beautiful women under one roof... it would have been enough to make a club promoter in San Francisco weep.
I
have really never seen anything like this place since days long past of raves
and dance parties. There were probably
1000 people on the very large dance floor, more women than men, all very much
alive and very much grooving to the beats as the DJ's stirred the place to a
frenzy. The energy of the place was
unreal.... like I mentioned very much like some raves I had been to, but
without the drug-augmented euphoria which gave people the energy to dance all
night. These people were not visibly
drunk, or drugged… just high on life and dancing gleefully. I can only guess that their slower pace of
living, and lesser working hours, and natural zest for dance gave them the
energy to party all night long.
Such
a passionate people too... everywhere
we went this whole week (particularly at the clubs and bars) you could find
couples kissing unabashed for literally hours, oblivious of the world around
them. Everyone danced with fervor and
cries would erupt from the dance floor with each new song as people threw their
hands up in the air. We stayed at La
Diosa until about 5am, and even as we regretfully left, the disco hadn't slowed
down in the least, with the crowd still jumping and hardly anyone showing signs
of leaving any time soon (in fact, there were still people just arriving).
We
got back to the hotel where we told Keith and Rupin of the scene we had just
witnessed. I'm sure they still think we
were somewhat exaggerating, but really it would be difficult in any event to
fully describe the atmosphere of La Diosa that night.
Sunday,
November 25, 2001 – Buenos Aires
Our
last day here in South America, and already I am sad to see it slipping
away. It’s been such a grand time, and
a relaxing trip. The warm climate, the
friendly people, and the slow pace of life have completely lulled me into a
half-dream it seems. I feel like I’ve
left the hurried bustle and ever-present concerns of home far, far away… and find
myself somewhat loathe to return to it all (though homesickness is already
playing its part as well, and the notion of getting back does have it’s
appeal).
After
one last trip out to San Telmo, where we witnessed a great open-air flea market
(filled with so many amazing antiques it would make any collector’s head spin)
and some more street-side Tango, we found ourselves in a pair of taxicabs on
the way to the airport.
Aftermath
Now,
back at home, trying to re-acclimate myself back to life in the U.S., I look
back fondly and realize what a terrific week we had. It’s the furthest south I’ve ever been, and in some ways the
furthest experience from my routine here at home. I wonder at the people of Argentina, living their pleasures so
fully, their long late meals, lazy strolls around the city, dancing the nights
away. In the back of my mind I am
keenly aware that the country, as a whole, is about to default on billions of
dollars worth of loans… yet their lives
go on, in that lazily reckless manner. It
almost reminds me of childhood abandon.
And
somehow, while I was standing in the San Jose airport upon our arrival back
home, watching the mess of people rushing about, shoving at each other in a mad
dance of urgency, people in suits chattering on their cell-phones while waiting
in tangled lines… I could still close
my eyes and see Colonia. I could
imagine the low buildings, the warm air, the swaying palm trees, the nearly
deserted streets at mid-day…. and a
stray black dog, walking about… lazily
stopping here and there to rest in the shade.
It reminds me strongly why it is I love to travel. It is good to know that somewhere, a place
like Colonia still exists, and will go on existing… while I continue my life here.